


Mr. Tommyinnit Thinks that He's Fucked it Up Big Time and then it Turns Out He Didn't :)

by Anonymous



Category: DreamSMP (RPF), Minecraft youtube, mcyt, minecraftyt
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, I have chosen to NOT acknoledge any other chara tags other than VBRPF, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), anywho, he does his best, ranboo is a good ally, we need standard tags and i dont care if it doesn't pop up in their tags bcs of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “You good there, Tommy?” Phil asked, voice light and happy as he ended his own stream.“Mhmm,” Was Tommy’s only response. Talking hurt too much, and now that he didn’t have to talk, he wasn’t exactly planning on it. He adjusted his position a little more, shoving his keyboard to the side and picking lightly through his shirt at the binder that lay beneath. Fuck his ribs hurt.---Tommy forgets that SBI doesn't know he's trans and chaos ensues
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Phil Watson & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Comments: 26
Kudos: 1436
Collections: Anonymous Fics





	Mr. Tommyinnit Thinks that He's Fucked it Up Big Time and then it Turns Out He Didn't :)

The stream ended lightly, with a happy wave to the camera and a bright “Good bye!” leaving Tommy’s lips, but once he was sure the cameras were off he slumped onto his desk with a heavy _thunk_ and a groan.

He hadn’t even bothered to leave the VC, he was just so glad he could lay down for a moment. Despite the fact that it hadn’t even been a plot heavy stream (he had, in fact, been just chilling with Techno, Ranboo, Phil, and Wilbur, barely roleplaying), Tommy was absolutely wrecked from the two hour stream.

“You good there, Tommy?” Phil asked, voice light and happy as he ended his own stream.

“Mhmm,” Was Tommy’s only response. Talking hurt too much, and now that he didn’t have to talk, he wasn’t exactly planning on it. He adjusted his position a little more, shoving his keyboard to the side and picking lightly through his shirt at the binder that lay beneath. _Fuck_ his ribs hurt. The boy had been binding for about 26 hours now, and he was feeling the effects, but the idea of taking off the binder made him feel slightly ill.

Of course, it was one of _those_ days.

“I’m gonna take that as a “no”?” Phil responded, worry edging its way into his voice a bit. Tommy still didn’t reply, instead choosing to listen to the ambience of the call, Ranboo was drumming his fingers quietly against his desk, Techno was typing something or other, Wilbur was silent, and of course, Phil was trying to get Tommy to talk. “Do you feel sick? You looked fine in your stream… have you drunk any water today, and no, soda doesn’t count,” Tommy huffed again, before gathering his strength to speak.

“I’m fine, just a little sore, yknow?” and that was it, hopefully. Of course, Phil _didn’t_ know, Tommy’s ribs hurt in a way that Phil’s probably had never, and Tommy was also blissfully aware of the slight imperfections in his body that made him more feminine.

“Whatcha do to make yourself sore? It’s winter break, you don’t have gym class right now, right?” Wilbur spoke up, curiosity audible. Tommy groaned again, _of course they couldn’t just drop it_ , he adjusted himself again, stretching his arms high above his body for a moment, which turned out to be a terrible idea as a sharp pain shot through his chest.

“OW _, shit_ ,”. And that was all Phil needed to get pushy about it.

“ _Tommy_ , don’t lie to me. That sounded like it was painful. I’m not afraid to contact your parents if I think you’re hurt,” Tommy jolted back to reality at this, doing his best to keep his breath even, but even then, breathing was slightly painful, “kid,”

“I’m fine! Please don’t tell my parents,” Tommy said, gritting his teeth as the words sent sparks of pain through his chest.

“You sound like a 14 year old who got caught with like… some explicit shit or something,” Techno added, and what vaguely sounded like a laugh followed it, Ranboo giggled lightly at that.

“Techno!” Will shouted, and Tommy was half sure that if they’d all been together IRL Wilbur would have smacked Techno on the shoulder playfully, “And Tommy, Phil’s right, are you good?”

“Like I said, I’m fine, my ribs just _really_ hurt right now,”.

Tommy stopped breathing for a moment before sucking in another quick breath, which was just as painful as the last. There was no way to escape the oncoming questions, and Tommy was absolutely dreading it all. He sat up a little, slowly wrapping his arms around his chest in a hope to comfort himself. Tommy tired to even his breathing again, but breathing continued to be painful so he elected to instead breathe once every five seconds. Yes, that would not end badly for Mr. Tommy Innit (he knew it was a bad idea).

Ranboo audibly looked up at hearing Tommy’s words, and politely, said, without elaborating and doing his absolute best to make sure absolutely no one else understood what he was saying, “You, uh, if I’m of course interpreting this right, you should probably take _it_ off,”. Wilbur, Techno and Phil all _lost_ it at this. Tommy just stood there in shock, continuing to breathe in a way that was most definitely making him light headed fast.

“Take _what_ off? Tommy what are you wearing?”  
“Ranboo?”  
“TommyInnit dot Hotmail dot co dot UK what the hell are you wearing that’s hurting your ribs?”

“Hey Ranboo,” Tommy groaned out uncomfortably, “1: Why the hell do you know what I’m talking about, and 2: how the hell did you manage to make this conversation _worse_ for me?”

“I- uh- sorry Tommy! Just looking out for you?” his voice was high and uncomfortable, “I guess that didn’t work out. But uhm, yknow, my point still stands, if it’s hurting your ribs that bad you should take it off…” Tommy wanted to let out an exasperated and dramatic sigh, but he knew it would hurt like all hell so he decided to once again pause his breathing completely.

He was now _very_ light headed.

“Jesus Christ, Tommy are you even breathing over there?” Phil said, worry now very obvious in his voice.

Instead of answering Tommy flicked on his facecam and nodded a quick no, shoulders ridgid as the world got _slightly_ more blurry (which was surprising, as it was already incredibly blurry).

“Uh, You should do that!” Wilbur shouted. Tommy shook his head again, “I’m calling your parents,”. Tommy took in a big gulp of air again, finally, and slowly began to speak,

“Please d-don’t, I’m fine, just in a lot of pain right now,” he scrunched his eyebrows together and flicked off his webcam again, curling into a tight ball.

“Holy fuck, dude, I’m not one to pry but _seriously_ whatever Ranboo is telling you to take off you should probably, yknow, _take it off_ , if it’s causing you this much pain,” Techno added quickly, before returning to his typing, but the worry and compassion was obvious in his voice.

“Mhmmmn, but if I take off the binder I’ll feel worseeeeee,”.

And once again Tommy sucked in a quick, painful, breath as he realized what he said.

He could hear Phil’s furious typing the moment he said “binder”.

_Click, tap tap tap tap tap tap, audible frown, click click, tap tap tap tap, space, tap tap, space, tap, space, tap tap tap tap tap tap._

“Why are you wearing a “chest binder”?” He mused. Tommy was _fucked_.

He couldn’t talk his way out of this one, not in a million years.

All in all, his only other course of action (other than, you know, coming out to these guys) was leaving the VC. So as he heard Techno and Wilbur both go “huh” he clicked the ‘Leave Call’ button and decided to go die.

Slowly Tommy made his way over to his bed, using his chair (that, conveniently, had wheels), to roll his way over and crawl into it, like a lump. He pulled out his phone and began to scroll twitter, trying not to cry from both pain and the fact that he’d been outed (sort of). And that’s when he got his first call.

It was from Phil.

He elected to ignore it.

He pressed ‘Decline call’ and continued to scroll twitter, trying to breathe without passing the fuck out from either pain or lack of breath.

The next call came in. It was also Phil.

He ignored it again. He did not want to answer any questions that man had. Tommy bit his lip, as the tears started to roll in.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck._

They were all going to abandon him, right? They’re sweaty fucking gamer men they don’t want a trans kid to hang out with him.

He’d fucked up.

They were going to leave him, and then they were going to out him and ruin his career.

Fucking _peachy_.

When Phil called for the third time Tommy picked up, but only because he was so loopy from lack of oxygen, breathing heavy as he shuddered with pain and tears.

“Tommy-? Are you alright?”

“S-sorry for lying to y-you guys it’s alright if you wa-wanna leave me I know I should’ve been open about it from the beginning it’s my fault. S-s-sorry. Sorry. _Sorry_. It’s cool if you guys all want to li-l-like, tell the rest of the world and a-all that. I deserve it for being such a fucking freak of nature don’t worry about it. No hard feelings! I should’ve just shut up and left the call the moment you asked if I was alright. I know I fucked up. I wish I never met you guys because if we’d never met then I never wouldn’t have fucked up like this. I’m so fucking sorry for making you care about a me I know you don’t want me around anymore I’ll just. Leave.” By the end of it he was a babbling mess and Phil was incredibly confused.

“Hey, hey! We’re not going to abandon you- or- or “tell the rest of the world,” whatever that means- I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. You sounded really fucking hurt- and the way you left just. Made me worried. Do you want to explain what it was all about? Preferably on call so Will and Techno can stop worrying?” Phil was doing his absolute best to calm the mess that Tommy was, and to his credit, he was doing pretty good. 

Tommy’s only reply was a very sad “mhmm” that was obviously said into a pillow.

“Tommy- no one hates you, no matter what this ends up being, okay? We love you no matter what. Now please come back to the call before I call your parents, and I’m serious this time,” Phil pleaded, and Tommy responded again with a “hrmppf,” though it was obvious that this time he was joining the call.

Tommy quickly hung up on Phil and opened the Discord app, then entered the vc cautiously.

“TOMMY! You’re back! We were really worried!” Wilbur said loudly. Tommy groaned.

“So- oh, you gonna explain all that?” Techno added, worry obvious in his voice.

“I guess I have to,” Tommy took a moment to pause, taking a (painful) breath as his voice did its best to steady (it didn’t end well), and he let out what sounded like a sob before continuing, “Okay- please don’t hate me for this- I know you guys always say you won’t but I’m really worried that you will and uhm- well. O-okay.

“So I’m trans. FTM. Born a gal. A lass. A woman. Ew, am I right?” Tommy paused.

“Why would we hate you for that? Kid you’re a man, I hope you know that,” Techno assured, Wilbur audibly nodded at this,  
“Mhmm! Yeah, Tommy you’re always gonna be my son,” Phil added, Wilbur also nodded to this.

Ranboo was silent but Tommy didn’t need to hear anything from him. The guy had already made it obvious he cared, whether or not Tommy was trans.

“I have been on T —Testosterone— for about 3 years now, but the tits that come with being AFAB don’t exactly disappear when you get the Man Juice, right? So my parents get me this _really_ cool thing called a binder. Pretty much, it compresses your badonkadonks so you have a flat chest. Thing is though, it’s like, really not the best long term solution. Goal is to one day get ‘em cut right off. Blah blah, you can break your ribs, fucks with your back, et cetera. ‘Cus of all that you’re only supposed to wear it for 8 hours max.

“Here’s where you guys are going to get mad and shit- I’ve been wearing mine for about 25 or so hours now…”

“ _TOMMY!_ ”

“CHILL! I’m fine. I think. The only reason I’m risking this is because my brain is currently going “Bro did you know you’re “Not A Man,” and I’m like! No! Bitch! If I look like a man I am a man!” so I’m sitting here like “well now I guess I have to remain in this fucking binder or risk like. Puking my guts out or self harming which are both Not Poggers, if you catch my drift,”

“Shit, Tommy, are you alright-?” Phil asked softly.

“If I was alright I wouldn’t be, 1: outing myself like this, 2: wearing this binder for over a day, and 3: crying because I thought you fuckers would abandon me for being trans,”

“Oh… Once we meet up again you’re getting a hug, I hope you know that,”

“Thanks dude,”

“And about that self harming thing- I hope you know we’re always here for you!” Wilbur added quickly, Tommy squirmed uncomfortably. He really didn’t like talking about that.

“Good to note! I’ll be sure to not take you up on that,” his breathing was evening and his cheeks were slowly drying, “Anyways, I- uh- should probably get out of this thing. I’ll come back on call afterwards though. I, uh, don’t exactly trust myself right now, sorry,”

“Cool, we’ll be waiting, big man!” Techno called out as Tommy left the call.

Tommy smiled softly.

“ _hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,_ ” Tommy groaned out, leaning back, “ _fuck_ ”.

He stood up, hunched over and in not-so-mild amounts of pain, and walked over to his dresser where he grabbed out a normal bra and swiftly changed, he then added dtwo thick sweatshirts for good measure, grabbed his phone, and ventured back to his setup, where he opened Discord and rejoined the VC, where Ranboo and Techno were discussing what Tommy _thought_ was Creeper Crypt but he wasn’t totally sure.

They both seemed very happy with the conversation, and barely acknowledged Tommy rejoining.

Tommy liked that. He sat there and listened as they all talked happily, letting his body relax.


End file.
